Memoirs of Madrid
by UglyBigTruthers
Summary: Spencer and Caleb reminisce about the day they spontaneously met up in Madrid. One-shot.
_**Spencer's Memoirs**_

Of course I remember that day. As much as I hate myself for it, as much as I try to forget it, I can't. And neither can he. It was the single most enigmatic moment I have experienced in all of 23 years of living, very puzzling, very unsettling, inexplicable. Madrid, the beauty and vigor of the city made it so easy to drift gently in love with the person you'd least expect yourself to fall for. And I don't believe in fate, nor do I believe that people are destined to be together. But reuniting with a familiar face in a place so foreign to you, both physically and metaphysically- he reminded me that the past that we try to run from can come to us bearing small gifts of animosity.

 _ **Caleb's Memoirs**_

Madrid? Yeah, I was there…once. It's a funny story actually it's where I sort of fell in love with this brilliant, infuriatingly immaculate goddess of a woman. Spencer Hastings was her name. It wasn't the first time we'd met though. We knew each other from the past. We were friends … in a weird dysfunctional way. By that I mean we both offered our support of one another whilst being stalked and tortured by a faceless coward who went by the pseudonym, "A." There was a lot of pain back in those days, a lot of stress, drama. And thereafter, I think we both needed to take a step back to re-evaluate ourselves, to try to create happiness out of sand and when the particles went whirling about, the wind brought us back together.

…

I squinted my eyes because I thought that they deceived me. In a crowded metro on an oppressively hot day in Spain, I spotted a fair-skinned woman who looked dangerously similar to an old friend of mine. I couldn't be sure from behind, but I went with my gut and called out her name.

"Spencer! Spence!" I waved my arms vigorously. Some of the locals took me for madman, but I paid them no mind. "Spencer!" She turned around, puzzled at first, but the widest smile soon found her face. She darted across the station, meeting me half way.

"Caleb? What are you doing here?" She enthused.

"I've spent the whole summer backpacking through Europe, needed a change in scenery."

"What? Did New York not show you any love?"

"Spending my weekdays slaving over essays and exams at NYU and my weekends attending pretentious galas with a bunch of high end fashion designers who are doped up on their own egos? I'd say New York has showed me everything but love."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she giggled. For the first time I noticed a small mole on the right side of her face that graced her cheek adorably. "How's Hanna?"

I winced at the sound of her name. "We're fine. She's… great," was all that I said although we weren't fine. Things had not been great for us since high school, but I did not want to overshare. I kind of just wanted to forget everything I'd left behind in New York.

"How are things with you and Toby?"

Spencer shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "We broke up, actually."

"I'm so sorry," seeing the hurt in her face at the mention of his name made me regret asking.

She shrugged her shoulders simply. "Shit happens, or as the French more eloquently put it, c'est la vie, c'est la mort. That is life. That is death. It was bound to happen eventually." She gazed off into the distance.

"Why do you say that?"

"Newton's third law," she smirked, "For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Toby and I couldn't agree on anything. I mean, we've always been opposites and I always thought that's what drew us into each other, but I guess it's also what caused us to drift apart."

"You know what they say, opposites attract until you until the heat dies down and you realize you have nothing to talk about."

Spencer's face drew a frown. "Who says that? The cynical realist community?"

"Yeah, I'm a founding member." We both laughed.

"Well, I hate to cut this conversation short, but this my train."

"Where are you headed?"

"Back to D.C. This summer abroad has been truly invigorating," she stretched out her arms taking in the warmth of the Madrid air one last time. "But it's time to get back to reality."

"Reality will be there waiting for you no matter when you decide to go back. Spend the day with me. We'll catch up." I leant her my hand.

"Yeah, sure. We could grab a bite to eat or something. I know this great place not too far from here called Moratin Vinoteca Bistrot. The salmon is to die for. "

"While I'd readily lay down my life to taste the flesh of undercooked fish, I actually have something more _eventful_ planned."

"What is that smile?" She punched me on the shoulder playfully.

"What smile?" I could not suppress the giddy grin that swept across my face.

" _That_ smile. That devilish look in your eye. Where are you taking me? A strip club?"

"A _strip club_? That is rich!" I laughed. "No, one of my aims here is to experience some of the cultural traditions in each country I visit, so we're going to go somewhere _festive_."

"And what, you're not gonna tell me what it is?"

I shook my head fervently.

"Ugh, I hate surprises." She pouted.

"I'm sure you do because you know that you can't control the outcome."

She narrowed her eyes at me sharply but proceeded to move past my snide remark. "Something festive," Spencer thought aloud. "Are we going for tapas? I've always wanted to do that, order small meals at a bunch of restaurants." She looked at my face for confirmation, but I remained expressionless which only bothered her more. "Maybe to flamenco? I'm telling you, I've got killer moves. You're not gonna be able to keep up with me."

"Oh that's right! You used to date a Spanish guy, didn't you?"

"Alex Santiago," she said in near-perfect Spanish accent. "He was from Mexico. Gosh, I haven't thought about Alex in years!" I watched her smile as she reminisced the simpler times in her mind.

"It's funny, isn't? How when you're in high school you start planning your life with someone. It's like your whole world revolves around them. Then as you get older that epic love becomes yet another fleeting high school memory."

Spencer stared at me for a moment as if she could relate entirely.

After moments passed, we finally arrived at our destination.

 _ **Spencer's Memoirs**_

He took me to this God awful bull fight. It was—it was revolting it was savage!

 _ **Caleb's Memoirs**_

It was hilarious! Spencer was in complete culture shock. I'm pretty sure she broke down into tears at one point.

 _ **Spencer's Memoirs**_

I'm telling it was horrible. He laughed at me as I was crying. Those poor innocent bulls violated and exploited and the idiots that wind up in hospitals from provoking horned animals to rear them. How is that _entertainment_?

 _ **Caleb's Memoirs**_

It was so entertaining! At one point she stood up and started cursing at the drunken crowd, calling them all savages.

…

"A _bull fight_?" Spencer raged, utterly repulsed. "No," she looked at me. Her eyes were willing to compromise, but her will was too strong. I pleaded back at her. " _No_! What they do to those poor creatures is savage!"

"Oh come on, you're getting the full Spain experience!" I tried to sway her, "Plus, I mean, you've got to do something that you'll regret before we turn old and grey."

"Oh I've done plenty that I regret. Like being the prime suspect in a murder investigation, becoming mildly addicted to drugs for a brief moment, being committed to a mental institution," she added carelessly. Spencer always did have this morbid sense of humor.

"Well those things were out of your control. You were a victim in a cruel, torturous game, and now you get to be a spectator in someone else's misery. It's the universe's way of restoring equilibrium."

"I am so gonna regret this." She sighed.

"Well that's the point." I grabbed her by the hand and led her to the entrance.

The crowd was roaring, bursting with enthusiasm as the lone torero dressed in vibrant, shimmery apparel took his place in the pit. He flaunted a red flag before the animal was released. The bull came charging at him full force. Hollers from the crowd. I turned to Spencer to see how she was doing.

"I can't watch this." She shielded her eyes with her hands.

"Aw, are you crying?" I pulled her towards my chest to embrace her, but she quickly pulled herself away.

"I am not crying," she wiped an article of running liquid from her cheek causing me to laugh guiltily. "Okay, do you know what they do to those poor defenseless creatures in order to get them to behave wildly? The bulls are slapped, teased, given electric prods, and otherwise tormented."

I started to suggest we go, but before I knew it, Spencer had turned around and was yelling at the crowd with condemnation.

"You're a bunch of filthy savages!" She yelled at the top of her lungs. "This animal is a sentient creature, a life that has value" It was a top notch lecture.

"Sit down, shut up!" A rather rotund man who was clearly intoxicated barked back.

"I reserve every right to protest," She stood her ground.

"Spencer, come on," I nudged her. The rotund man waddled down a few stairs to get closer to where we were.

"Huh? You got something to say?" He became aggressive. I shielded her behind me.

"Hey, man. I'm sorry for the confusion. My friend here, she's not angry because you take pleasure in the exploitation of a bull." His stomach was pultruding over his unforgivingly tight jeans. "She's angry because you _ate_ the last one." I remarked snidely and then took off, grabbing Spencer's arm as I did.

"Damn hipsters!" He called out, but he didn't bother chasing us.

When finally got out of the stadium, we were both out of breath and laughing.

"I freaking hate you right now," Spencer snickered.

"I love you too," The words rolled off my tongue instinctively. I took a moment to catch my breath, and as I did, I could just feel her gaze upon me and it pricked my skin. She just smiled gently.

"Well, I have that to check off of my bucket list."

"Any regrets?" I scanned her full brown eyes as we started to walk together.

"No, no regrets," she replied simply.

"Well we still have time," I joked.

 _ **Spencer's Memoirs**_

After that we experienced nightlife in Spain which was incredible. We mingled and danced until our hearts were content. Caleb and I shared a slow dance, unintentionally actually. After moments apart, our eyes locked at the bar and a vivacious song was blaring from the speakers. We connected and then the tempo changed to a sultry romantic melody. We hesitated to proceed at first. Then he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I remember my heart sinking into my stomach.

…

"I can't seem to put my finger on it," he whispered into my ear softly, "but you seem _different_ than you were before."

"It's the bangs," I giggled, sweeping my hair from my face."

"No," he looked at me so intently which caused my knees to quiver. "It's not the bangs." Caleb's eyes traveled from my eyes to my lips, where he lingered for a while before slowly returning to my eyes again. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then the song changed to an upbeat song by Selena. Caleb spun me around and then dipped. I was taken by his sharp dancing abilities.

"Yeah, that's right. I got skills," he joked.

"Your humility is truly remarkable." I added with a smirk.

We stayed up dancing for hours. It was 4a.m. when the bar closed, and still we were tireless.

 _ **Spencer's Memoirs**_

We stopped at a—a wine parlor. Caleb said that you haven't been to Spain until you've settled down with a nice bottle of Sangria. We bought some and we strolled the city laughing, talking, rambling aimlessly, and simply enjoying each other's company. For a moment I felt completely at ease as the night morphed seamlessly into morning. My PTSD had settled. My post-breakup woes began to die down, and my anxiety about the future was no more. With Caleb it was just so natural for me to just smile, to let go of the walls I built. There were no secrets between us. It was Caleb's idea to sneak into Retiro Park at 6 in the morning just before the sun began to rise. The sight was so pristine.

 _ **Caleb's Memoirs**_  
She looked so beautiful. I wondered why I'd never noticed it before – the way her pale skin glowed against the sunrise. The way she lit up when she talk about her accomplishments and her ambitions. It was inspiring.

…

"So what's really going on with you and Hanna?" I wondered aloud.

Caleb sighed. I knew he was expecting the question. "Newton's third law?" He simpered. "I love her. I always will, but her lifestyle, her goals they're vain and the people she surrounds herself with herself with are—"

"Pretentious? Doped up on their own egos?" I reiterated what he'd told me before.

"Yeah, yeah they are."

I sighed, "Vanity of vanities. All is vanity. Life and all its contents are meaningless until we bring them to life, until we prescribe meaning to them. It is not merely a vain pursuit if it is what she loves."

"True," he pondered for a while as silence ensued. "But what if what she loves and what I love conflict with one another?"

"What do you mean?"

"I crave intellectual stimulation. I need to be challenged, to rebel against societal conventions that box human beings into tiny cubicles with lofty expectations and roles. Hanna and I, we just want different things. Ya know? She is perfectly happy critiquing people's shoes and adhering to the demands of her arrogant boss, and I just want substance."

I could tell he had been holding all of that frustration in and it was therapeutic for him to let it all out. "Hey," I placed my hand on his knee as a gesture of empathy. "It's gonna be fine, alright?"

Caleb grabbed ahold of my hand and gently caressed my fingers with his thumb. He smiled, "Thank you."

We did not say anything more. Our gazes redirected at the sky which was illuminated by the rising sun – brilliant reds and yellows contrasted against the darkened atmosphere above. We laid next to each other in the grass, our warm bodies offering comfort, our hearts beating in unison. Without our knowing, a powerful magnetism drew us together. We enjoyed the simplicity. We enjoyed the unspoken conversation, the occasional curious glances, the wonder, the mystery of what we always knew that we that we never knew that we always wanted to know. It was pure unadulterated bliss.

 _ **Spencer and Caleb's Memoirs**_

It was my best day in Europe.


End file.
